


Unattached Drifter Christmas?

by PilDoor



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Crushes, M/M, Oneshot, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 21:05:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17815499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PilDoor/pseuds/PilDoor
Summary: Dean's pretty sick of the know-it-all Asshole Psych Major in his lit class, andno, the fighting over penis envy in old classics isn't Dean's very mature way of handling a crush. It isn't.





	Unattached Drifter Christmas?

**Author's Note:**

> A late little Valentine's Day thing.

“I swear, the fact that I haven’t kicked his ass already is a huge testament to my self-restraint. Guy has it coming.” Dean opens with when he enters his and Sam’s apartment. He slings his bag off his shoulder and on top of Sam who’s doing some nerd assignment with his laptop in his lap on the couch.

“I assume you’re talking about Asshole Psych Major?” Sam mumbles without looking away from his document. He’s in the proof-reading phase, otherwise he’d have never engaged.

Dean gets a beer from the fridge, “Yes, I’m talking about Asshole Psych Major. He’s driving me crazy. Do you think it’s a psych thing? Creating their own clients?” He plops down next to Sam, who doesn’t look at him.

“Yes, Dean, that sounds completely reasonable,” Sam deadpans.

“Shut up,” Dean mumbles. He nurses his beer and lets Sam fix his nerd shit for a while.

But only for a while.

“You know what he did today? Do you wanna know what the asshole had the audacity to say to me today?” He asks, sitting straight up and fuming at the muted TV in front of him. It’s a Love Island rerun.

He knows Sam rolls his eyes even if he doesn’t see it, “No, I don’t actually. Believe it or not, I don’t care about the stranger in your lit class whose figurative pigtails your tugging.”

Dean glares at him but isn’t deterred. “He said, and I quote, He’d ‘like to see me math my way out of Don Quixote’. What a _dick_!”

Sam finally looks up from his assignment to send Dean a bitch face, “Dean, you hate that class anyway. Why don’t you just take it online? Or better yet: get that credit from a different course?”

“All the other classes were full,” Dean defends. Sam doesn’t bring up why Dean ensures full attendance in his least favorite class. He barely goes to the ones he actually likes. Dean can only be grateful because what’s he going to say? _I can’t let the asshole pysch major win_? 

Sam blinks at him, clearly regretting his decision to live with his older brother while they both go to college.

“Are you done complaining? Can I go back to my paper?” Sam asks.

Dean shrugs. Sam goes back to his paper. Dean drinks some more beer and considers changing his lit assignment, because Asshole Psych Major did actually have some good points when they were discussing Dracula in class today. He decides against it, out of spite. The grade wouldn’t be worth it if it was _tainted_.

He starts on his assignment for advanced statistics even though it’s a group project and he only has Ash in his group so far. He can at least write up his notes from the class he had yesterday.

He gets pretty immersed in it, and barely notices Sam getting up to make coffee, nor does he really register drinking the coffee he sets down in front of him.

More time passes and Sam starts getting fidgety. He has probably spent all day doing homework, the nerd, and now his brain is kaput and he’s bouncing his long-ass legs in Dean peripheral vision and playing solitaire.

“Can you cut it out, you freak?” Dean grits at him, not looking away from his piece of notebook paper, because he’s in the middle of a long-ass equation and it’s _advanced_ , okay?

“Ugh, fine,” Sam sighs and closes his laptop before placing it on the coffee table in front of them. He turns to Dean, “Hey, when are you leaving?”

Dean types the last mu into his calculator before frowning at Sam, “The fuck you talking about?”

Sam raises his eyebrows and gestures at Dean like _he’s_ the idiot.

“What?”

“It’s Valentine’s Day?” He says like, _Hello_ , “Don’t you have plans to go hit on desperate singles?”

Dean shrugs, “Meh. It’s college. There are desperate singles year-round.”

Sam rolls his eyes, “I have to be adopted. There’s no other logical explanation.”

“Hey, you asked!” Dean protests. He writes the answer from his calculator on his paper.

“Whatever. Hey, I saw that the burger place on the next block has a Valentine’s deal. Like a two-for-one deal, I think,” Sam starts. 

Dean looks at him. “Are you asking me to be your Valentine?” he smirks, and fully anticipates the bitch face he gets.

“I hate you. If you don’t wanna go, fine. But I’m not cooking anything today,” Sam says and folds his arms over his chest.

Dean feels bad enough about Sam getting dumped right before Valentine’s Day even though it’s a bullshit capital fuckfest, so he agrees to go after all. He’s in no mood to cook them dinner anyway.

 

“Hello, welcome to the Burger Shack!” a bubbly teenager says when Sam and Dean finally get to the hostess’ stand. They had waited in line for several minutes while the hostess tried to seat more and more couples trying to save dollars on Valentine’s Day.

“Hey, uh, do you have space for two?” Sam asks, holding up two fingers and smiling adorably. Dean cannot believe they are related. He’s glad for it all the same.

The girl falls for the adorable smile, so much so that she actually looks upset when she tells them, “I’m so sorry, but we’re full right now.”

So it’s Dean’s turn. He leans his elbow on her stand and gives her his own version of the adorable Winchester smile. “You’re absolutely sure there’s nothing?” he asks, and before she can answer, “It’s our anniversary,” he gestures to Sam who can’t hear him, thank god, “And I already fucked up the reservations we had at a different place.” He gives her a sad, sad look.

The girl looks at Dean and at Sam behind him, biting her lip. Then she leans towards Dean, “I have a table for four that’s occupied by one couple. I could ask them if they mind sharing their table, if it’s okay with you?”

Had Dean been on a date he would probably had been offended at her suggesting it, but right now he was with his sad, newly single brother, and their burgers were half off. He flashes his pearly whites, “That’s perfect.”

She leaves to go check with the couple and comes back looking positive, “They’ve only ordered their drinks so far, so I’m afraid you’ll be sharing for quite a while. But if something opens up, I’ll move you, alright?” she zigzags through the crowded room.

Dean appreciates the Valentine’s offer, but how anyone could ever take a date here, he would never understand. And it’s not like he’s hard to impress, but the Burger Shack is just a Biggerson’s with a different color scheme, and Dean would have to have been fed some fun brownies to go here on a date.

The hostess puts menus down on each side of a table, and Sam is already pulling off his coat and sitting down before Dean notices.

And he freezes.

He should have cooked.

Their table mate is fucking Asshole Psych Major, and he’s on a date with some hot as fuck girl, who’s totally out of Dean’s league.

Dean instantly looks to the bar, trying to see what liquor bottles they have on display. He needs it. But right now, he needs to sit down. 

Sam is already talking to Asshole Psych Major and his date, and Dean wonders if Sam would be mad if he left right now.

But then Sam looks up at him, gives him his patented _are you demented_ look, and Dean finally gets on with it and sits down next to Asshole Psych Major’s hot date, and tries not to think about how now he can really compare Dean and his much hotter and probably much more well-read date.

Asshole Psych Major notices him then and does a double take, “Dean?!”

Dean smiles uncomfortably, gives a really awkward wave that he will regret forever, “Hey, Cas.”

Sam looks between them, “You know each other?” he’s smiling like this is a reunion or some shit. 

A waitress brings them water while she refills Castiel’s and his date’s glasses, and Dean throws himself at it, wishing it was vodka.

Sam reads his overreaction wrong and raises his eyebrow at Dean, “Don’t tell me you guys are exes!”

Dean nearly drowns but manages to get it down the right pipe.

“Uh no,” Castiel says, looking uncomfortable, which, great, even the thought of them dating is mystifying and disgusting to him. Not like it isn’t to Dean or anything, but still… Offensive. “We take a lit class together.”

Dean tries to hard to swallow his water in time to save the planet for having to go through the most painfully awkward moment in history, but his mission fails.

“Oh, then you must also know Asshole Psych Major?” Sam says, chuckling, and Dean wishes he didn't always talk so much shit, and why couldn’t he just have taken some other bullshit filler class to get his credit?

Dean kicks Sam under the table at the same time that Castiel says, “I believe that would be me.”

Sam gapes at him. Then he turns to Dean to kick him back and glare, like Dean somehow lied to him.

“Wait, you’re the sole engineer that Castiel keeps talking about?” the girl(friend? What? Didn’t Cas totally give off a gay vibe, or was that just Dean’s wishful thinking?)

“I guess,” he smiles as charmingly as he can muster under the circumstances and shakes her hand, “Nice to meet you, uh…”

“I’m Hanna,” the girl says, and doesn’t bother informing him what the fuck she is to Cas. 

They all smile awkwardly some more and then the waitress comes and apparently, they all have to fucking order now, and Dean hasn’t even looked at the menu. Not that he needs to. As long as it has cheese and bacon, he won’t complain.

After that Castiel and his stupidly hot date go back to talking about something that Dean doesn’t understand, but he thinks he heard something about theoretical models and some German sounding name, and he is so goddamn dumb.

Sam talks about how much he hates corporate law and asks if Dean will check Jess’ social media to see what she’s up to, since Sam deleted her and Dean turns to look for the beer he ordered.

 

After a while Dean actually starts to relax. The beer does its job and the food is good for the price, and he’s not thinking about how he keeps meeting Castiel’s eye over the tacky candlelight in the middle of the table.

Sam asks about his classes, and Dean totally should have just talked about statistics or physics or anything safe, but he doesn’t because he’s a dumb fuck.

“I just don’t get spectacle. Like, Dracula, right? Pretty straight forward, no? Old undead dude is looking for his girlfriend,” Dean shrugs and takes a sip of his second beer since he got there , “How is it suddenly about penis envy and wombs?”

Sam shakes his head, “I remember everything being about puberty back in high school.”

“Dude, didn’t ask,” Dean says.

“No, I mean in AP English,” he rolls his eyes.

“Sure,” Dean says, “That why you kept a ruler next to your bed?”

“Fuck off.”

Castiel cuts in then and Dean actually wishes that there would be a small natural disaster so they all would have to leave.

“That reading suggests that the coffin is the womb,” he tells Dean, completely unprovoked.

Dean tries not to glare sullenly at him, “I know Cas, I was in class, remember? I’m just saying it bullshit.”

“It’s quite common to do psychoanalytical readings of literary pieces. It’s a major aim of our class,” Cas says, because that dork probably read the course description.

“Dude, I’m just saying, I don’t buy that Dracula associates his girlfriend with his mother and his tomb as going back to the womb or whatever,” Dean rolls his eyes. They had spent 30 minutes discussing this in class until the teacher had told them to shut up or get out.

“Well, you have to if you want a good grade,” Castiel says, shrugging a shoulder, and Dean suddenly understands why Ron and Harry hate Hermione so much in the first book.

Dean leans back in his chair, “Don’t worry about my grade, if there’s anything I’ve learned from four years of college it’s how to bullshit a paper.”

Castiel actually cracks a smile in that, “Please. I’m a psychology major. You do math. I’d be willing to bet I bullshit a paper better than you.”

“Oh yeah? I’ll take that challenge!” Dean grins at him, excited. He gonna bullshit this paper so hard. And then there'll only be three papers left in that class. For three other books. That are probably also about penis envy. Sigh.

They talk about the terms for the bet for the next 20 minutes, and Sam goes to the bathroom or something, and a waitress clears their plates, and then Hanna goes to the bathroom or something as well.

“Do you wanna meet in the library tomorrow?” Castiel asks, when Dean admits that he can’t figure out the humanities and psychology parts of the library, and therefore is using some pretty sketchy sources.

“Yeah!” Dean agrees and smiles too bright and offers to bring coffee for the both of them way too eagerly.

But Castiel just smiles stupidly bright back.

“Would you like any dessert?” The waitress asks out of nowhere then.

“Uh…” Dean says and looks at Castiel. Then he looks next to him and Sam’s not there. Actually, Hanna isn’t either. “I guess we’ll wait for the others to come back?”

The waitress frowns, “Uhm,” her eyes shifts between him and Cas, “They left?” she looks awkward.

“What?!” Dean asks. Like yeah, so Sam left him hanging but it’s Sam. There’s was probably some nerd documentary on the world’s largest predator on at home or some bullshit. But he feels bad for Cas. His date left because Dean couldn’t shut up for one second.

Castiel does look kind of upset. The waitress shifts awkwardly, then says “I’ll give you guys a minute.”

Dean and Castiel look at each other.

“Dude, I’m so sorry,” Dean says. He can never show up to the lit class again.

Castiel squints, “ _You’re_ sorry? Wasn’t it I who ruined your date?” he says and gestures to Sam’s empty chair.

Dean scrunches his nose up in disgust. Maybe his stupid trick with the hostess had worked a little too well, “Ew, no! Sam is my brother.”

“Oh,” Castiel says, looking utterly surprised, like it was unthinkable that Dean was here on Valentine’s Day with his brother.

“Yeah, his girlfriend broke up with him recently, so, I don’t know. Just thought it’d be nicer than a TV dinner,” Dean shrugs and then gestures to the empty chair next to him, “But I’m sorry about Hanna. She seemed nice.”

Castiel frowns, “Huh?”

“Hanna?” Dean frowns right back, “Your girlfriend or whatever?”

“Do you even realize how absurd a thing that is to say?” Castiel says, shaking his head fondly.

Dean wonders what just came out of his mouth, because surely a psych major has heard crazier things that what Dean thinks he just said.

Castiel tilts his head, still smiling humorously, “Hanna is my sister. And I’m not in the habit of dating women.”

And with that little tidbit of information, Dean suddenly has butterflies, because apparently, he’s a thirteen-year-old virgin.

When three seconds of silence becomes unbearable, Dean pulls out his phone. “I’m just gonna check on Sam, one sec,” he tells Castiel, who gets out his own phone and calls Hanna.

‘ _Hey I left. Fun as it is to watch u flirt, I do have a deadline on Monday. Btw I didn’t pay >:)_’ is all Sam has to say.

All Dean has to say to that is ‘ _duck off_ ’.

He looks up at Cas then, who is looking right back. “Hanna left. Her last bus was gonna leave and she didn’t want to wait to split an Uber.”

“Does that mean you need a ride?” Dean asks and he knows he’s doing that stupid ‘I’m gonna get laid’ smile, which is so inappropriate but kind of a reflex by now.

Castiel rubs the edge of his napkin between his fingers before straightening it out, and huh, so even a Bachelor’s degree in Psychology can’t help you resist Winchester charm. It’s good to know.

 

“If it’s not too much trouble,” he says looking up at Dean through his lashes, and okay, maybe it’s the Novak charm that’s irresistible.

 

It's the first Valentine’s Day that Dean didn’t spend hitting on desperately lonely singles while drinking watered down margaritas. And he thinks to himself that he’d be okay if he never did that again. That he’d be totally okay, in fact, if next year went a little like the one this year.

Yeah, he has bruises from making out in the backseat of his car, and Sam is mad at him because he’s kind of loud in bed and it was a weekday, but Castiel sitting in his kitchen wearing Dean’s pajamas and making fun of Dracula and wombs makes it all okay. Makes it all great.


End file.
